


Empathy

by Zynnic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Domestic Violence, F/M, Forced Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zynnic/pseuds/Zynnic
Summary: Hanzo wants an heir and Reader must give him one.





	Empathy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkDrabblings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDrabblings/gifts).



> This is an old gift to DarkDrabblings based on their dark interpretation of Hanzo. He's such a bitch omg-  
> Finally got around to posting this on ao3.

He was a sociopath through and through.

He always relished your begging and crying; goading him to thrust deeper and more vigorously.

You’d tried to outsmart him. Figuring out that your pain was his pleasure, you attempted to silence yourself.

 _Attempted_.

He’d hit you-and for the first couple of nights you endured. He was strong, yes, but your will was stronger.

Until it wasn't.

Turns out, Hanzo was actually being quite gentle with you, in his own twisted way. The way he struck you in the past were mere love taps compared to the vicious beatings that successfully broke your silence.

"I had almost forgotten the sound of your voice,” he gripped your neck tightly and you reflexively started clawing at his hand. “Those sounds belong to me and you will make up for those nights lost.”

He’d loosened his grip on your neck, if only to hear you break down. Tears streaked down your cheeks as he had his way with you, determined to give himself an heir.

You’d lost to him.

\-- 

You rub your belly absentmindedly as you sat watching your oldest collecting the pale pink cherry blossoms on Hanamura grounds. She was about five- no, four and half. Most of her image clearly taken from Hanzo, except one. She had your eyes. Though admittedly, hers held a luster that yours could never muster anymore.

When she was first born and Hanzo realized her sex, he tutted.

“You were supposed to give me a son,” he reminded sternly.

You wondered if he was merely giving you some semblance of mercy in your delirious and tired state, but you would find out quickly that he simply saw this as a minor setback. You were both still young and of course there was a possibility of there being a girl.

However, with four years passing ending with three female children, Hanzo had grown absolutely livid. His disappointment was quick to turn to resentment. He questioned the dragons’ judgment - how could _you_ possibly be the mother of his heir when all you could produce were girls?

He’d curse and hiss about how useless you were and for a moment you were hopeful that he would cut his losses and break ties with you altogether.

Then Genji suggested that the two of you make use of modern technology to ensure you have a son. Apparently, scientists were able to separate sperm by sex.

At first, Hanzo wouldn't hear any of it. Partly because the suggestion came from Genji, but you also suspected that his pride would not allow it. No, Hanzo would see such a procedure as admitting to defeat, something a man of his caliber would never do. Or so you thought.

You glance at your swelling stomach; the only evidence of Hanzo finally yielding to something. It was definitely odd carrying a child that didn't come with the price of blood, sweat, and tears (at least not yet).

If you were being at all honest you would would say that carrying all of his children was strange. As you watched your group of toddlers amuse each other, you find yourself feeling nothing. Sure, they were cute and once held a very intimate relationship with you when they were inside your womb.. but even then, they felt foreign; invaders; parasitic. All physically resembling the monster that was their father, their eyes the only reflection of your former self.

“Okaasan,”

Blinking back into reality, you quickly registered that your girls had huddled up near you. The eldest gave you a sakura petal, the middle a pebble (she had her father’s talent for aiming and would often be tossing them around, sometimes aiming for her sisters), and the youngest was simply following her others-much too young to even consider getting you a little gift.

“Thank you.”

Satisfied with their random act of kindness, they smiled and looked at your belly bump.

“When is he coming home again?”

Home. This was by no means your home.

“Soon, honey, soon.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” There was a familiar figure in the corner of your eye. “Now go play, it looks like your father wants to speak with me.”

They were sweet, obedient little girls and ran off when you had asked. Hanzo approached, an almost serene expression on his face as he sat beside you.

He certainly treated you nicer when you were carrying his child and you found him to be especially kind this time that you were going to give him his heir. Even your outbursts would not break his mood. It seems that you would be safe from him in this state. Ironic that what made you most vulnerable was your only protection.

The girls squealed and giggled amongst themselves and you idly placed the petal over your lips. It was soft and this gentle pace of the day was a privilege.

“Hanzo.”

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“I hope you love them. That they become your world and you want to treasure them. I hope someone like you comes along in their life and steals them away from you.”

You place the petal down in front of you, crushing it under the weight of the pebble as hot tears well in your eyes. “One by one as they go, I hope your heart breaks and breaks until it leaves you utterly devastated.”

A bit of liquid seeps out from the petal and you lose your grip on the pebble. A bitter laugh escapes you.

“I know your son will be weak. He couldn't even beat his sisters in the race.”

 


End file.
